Hairpin Turns
by nanniships
Summary: Joseph Molesley and Phyllis Baxter are keeping their recent engagement quiet in light of the impending royal visit. Unfortunately, neither of them is very good at it, and a staff photo session leads to everything coming out.


Hairpin Turns

Phyllis Baxter made a sound low in her throat and flicked her eyes back and to the left in warning. The gentle stroking of fingers at the middle of her back continued.

"Haud' on now...everyone get ready..."

At the photographer's words, everyone sat up just a few millimeters taller, except for Mr. Carson who couldn't get any taller or straighter without the intervention of a hay hoist. The fingers ceased their barely there slide and instead pressed firmly. She made the warning sound again and felt the fingers flex in response. The corners of her mouth turned up in a gentle smirk.

"Aaand….now!"

The powder flashed and everyone remained frozen for a few seconds before shoulders began to relax from their stiff set poses and a low murmur of voices began. Phyllis twisted around enough to see the smug, little smile disappear from Joseph Molesley's face, to be replaced by an innocent expression that _might_ have fooled just about anyone else present at the photo session.

Well, it probably wouldn't have fooled Mrs. Hughes, if she had been looking anywhere other than Mr. Carson at that moment. And it certainly didn't fool her.

"Joseph," she began softly, watching his smile return all the way to his eyes, "I hope you were watching the camera just then."

"What else might I be watching, Phyllis?" he asked just a touch too brightly to be a whisper. She shushed him.

"You know very well what you might have been watching," she hissed, getting up from her chair as the rest of the staff began to mingle and chat excitedly about the impending royal visit.

"I knew I'd regret telling you that," he replied. She stared silently at him in disapproval. "Um...were there sixteen?"

"You missed two," she said with a sigh, unable to hold back a smile any longer.

They were only able to smile at other for a very brief moment before the staff was being chivvied back to their jobs and Mr. Barrow was ordering the footmen to get out of the special livery and hang it _carefully_ back in the closet or damage would be docked from wages you could be very sure of that…

As Joseph shrugged and began meandering towards the livery closet, not really wanting to take off the splendid uniform just yet, Phyllis watched him go with a little shake of her head, hoping his propensity to blurting things out wasn't going to interfere with their plans.

Of course, without that propensity, she'd have never known about his habit of counting her hairpins.

Phyllis nodded at Anna Bates as they both moved towards the boot room. Even the prospect of a royal visit in the near future didn't excuse them from their daily tasks. Usually, the two of them would exchange a few friendly words, chatting as they swiped the cleaning cloth vigorously over the multitude of shoes the quality wore everyday. However, Phyllis was a bit preoccupied and Anna just smiled at Lady Mary's shoe in her hand, her mind already up the stairs and in the nursery as tea time approached.

Tea time was, indeed, something to look forward to; a more casual gathering time than their shared meals, with conversation and laughter. And Joseph standing behind her as often as he could manage. Counting her hairpins.

"What's so funny, Miss Baxter?" Anna asked with a smile, intrigued by Phyllis' quiet snicker. "Care to share the joke?"

"Just a thought, is all," she replied. "Sorry if I disturbed you."

"Not a bit of it! It's nice that you're happy these days."

With that, Anna gathered up the shoes and swept from the boot room with a smile. No sooner was she gone than a familiar, balding head and pair of mischievously twinkling eyes appeared around the corner of the door. Joseph had changed into his suit rather than his everyday livery, ready to head out to tutor a few students hoping to get into grammar school.

"I'll be back in a few hours," he informed her from the doorway. She gestured for him to come in and he obeyed quickly, almost, but not quite, closing the door softly behind him. Phyllis raised her eyebrows and he opened it a bit wider.

"Joseph, we agreed that now is not the time to mention our engagement."

"Well...yes. Why?"

"If you don't start behaving yourself while you're here-"

"Everyone was looking at the photographer, Phyllis," he objected.

"How would you know that? You were most likely staring at the top of my head."

"Not the whole time..."

Phyllis huffed exasperatedly at him.

"If you're not going to be more careful, we should probably just go ahead and tell them and let things fallout however they may."

"You know I want to," he replied, raising his voice just enough to attract the attention of Andy passing by. The footman peered curiously into the boot room.

"There you are! Mr. Carson wants a word at you before you go this afternoon," Andy informed him. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Thank you, Andy," Joseph replied with a hint of frustration leaking into his voice. "I'll be along."

Andy just shook his head and walked on, wondering for a moment what in the world Mr. Molesley wanted to do.

Joseph looked anxiously at Phyllis' head, bent over a shoe, and nervously counted her hairpins, hoping she wasn't angry at him. She looked up at him in time to see him mouth "...sixteen...seventeen..."

"Come over here, Joseph," she ordered with a resigned sigh. He obeyed immediately, sitting almost inappropriately close to her. With a nervous glance at the door, she reached out and placed her hand on his.

"You know how people gossip, Joseph," she said softly, rubbing her fingers gently over his knuckles. He nodded glumly. "So...either we need to let Mr. Barrow and Mrs. Hughes know about the engagement..." He glanced up hopefully. "...or we need to act as if we're just friends while we're here. Andy is probably already thinking we're...up to something scandalous-"

"He wouldn't think that, Phyllis."

"It takes next to nothing for people to think other people are up to something scandalous."

"Then why don't we just let them know...quietly?"

"You said yourself, this is not the time," she replied, squeezing his hand. "I regret not being able to just tell them too, but with the Royal Visit...you with a foot half out the door already...her Ladyship needing me less and less...both of us getting sacked is not how we were hoping to start married life, Joseph."

"You're right, of course," he said, swallowing hard and looking at their hands entwined on the table. "I just-"

"Mr. Molesley!" They both jumped at Mr. Carson's familiar roar in the hall; it hadn't lost any of its effectiveness in retirement. Phyllis snatched her hand back and Joesph stood up abruptly and scuttled towards the door. Mr. Carson stuck his head inside the boot room and glowered at them both. "Did Andrew not inform you that I requested a word? What are you doing in _here_?"

"Mr. Molesley was just telling me about one of the students he's tutoring, Mr. Carson. I kept asking him questions...I'm very sorry," Phyllis jumped in before Joseph could say anything. His expression was rebellious, or as rebellious as it ever became in Mr. Carson's presence.

"Will we be losing you to the Schoolhouse as well, Miss Baxter?"

"Not at all, Mr. Carson. I'm very sorry to have kept Mr. Molesley. He was on his way when you found him."

Mr. Carson glared at them skeptically, then turned and left without another word, clearly expecting Mr. Molesley to be on his heels.

"I don't think he entirely believed that," she whispered anxiously, motioning for him to go..

"I never found the eighteenth hairpin," Joseph said from the door.

"Its at the nape of my neck," she choked out. "Now _go_!"

He exited with a grin that belied his growing conviction that he was about to have stripes torn off of him in fine Mr. Carson style.

Phyllis slumped over with her head in her hands, exhaling deeply. A burst of laughter escaped her as she contemplated the situation in which she and Joseph found themselves. She was shaking her head at their, well..._Joseph's_ foolishness when she noticed the shadow at the door.

"Your Mr. Molesley's in for it this time," Thomas drawled, as he made himself comfortable, leaning against the door frame.

"He's not my-"

"When were you going to tell us?" he interrupted.

"Skulking in the hallways is beneath the dignity of a butler, Mr. Barrow," she replied with a shaky voice. "Mr. Carson didn't."

"Mr. Carson had Mrs. Hughes to tell him everything he needed to know," he replied with a snort, coming further into the boot room. "When were you going to tell us."

"After the Royal visit and after we found out if Jos...if Mr. Molesley was going to get more classes at the school," she answered in a low voice, ignoring the smirk on Thomas' face at her near slip.

"For someone who lied and kept secrets for years, Phyllis, you're not very good at keeping this one. And Molesley is hopeless."

Phyllis looked at Thomas with resignation, not seeing any help in his expression.

"Can it wait until after the Royal visit?' she asked softly, thinking of how much it clearly meant to Joseph to serve Their Majesties.

"It'll have to. We can't do without either of you right now."

Hearing it stated so baldly that both of them will probably be sacked made her stomach drop. Of course, she knew it was a distinct possibility, but to know that it was going to happen made her shaky. She was thankful that her skirt covered how wobbly her knees were suddenly, as she straightened her back and looked Thomas in the face.

"All right then," she said softly. "Please, let me be the one who tells Joseph."

"I've been looking forward to it," he grumbled.

"Please."

"Fine...you tell him," he said, turning to leave

"Thank you," she said to his back. He stopped at the doorway and looked back.

"Remember, it's her Ladyship as has the final word about her maid. If she wants it."

Phyllis nodded as he left. Then she staggered to the nearest bench at the wall and dropped onto it ungracefully, staring unseeingly at the flagstones on the floor. She didn't raise her head until she heard the frantic scuffling of Joseph trying to get his coat on as he walked into the boot room. His ears were red and his eyes held a touch of agitation after his dressing down from Mr. Carson, but his smile was broad until he saw the look on her face. Dropping his coat to the floor, he rushed to her side.

"Thomas knows," she informed him. His face went white and he dropped onto the bench beside her.

"How?"

"How do you think?" she said with a crackle in her voice. "He overheard us talking. Not to mention..." She looked at him and a momentary smile flickered across her lips. "...we really haven't been very good at hiding our feelings."

Joseph inhaled deeply and took her hand.

"Well...that's it then. I guess I'll hand in my resignation before he can find me and sack me. He'd probably do it at tea in front of everybody."

"He wouldn't," she reassured him. "And we needn't say anything until after the Royal visit."

Joseph looked at her doubtfully.

"I suppose it isn't all a bad thing," she murmured, tipping her head to rest gently on his shoulder. "I know you wanted to make sure you were going to get more classes, but really, is there any doubt? They need you."

"Maybe so, but what about you? I know we talked about it, you know, if the worst were to happen and we were both out on our ears. But I don't want my wife to have to take in sewing to make ends meet."

"My job rests in her Ladyship's hands," she replied. "If she didn't sack me after learning about my crimes, she may not want to sack me just because I'm getting married."

"You never can tell with this lot," Joseph said, shaking his head.

"Can't tell _what_, exactly, with this lot, Mr. Molesley?"

The cracking whip of Mrs. Hughes' voice over their heads startled them so much they made no effort to rearrange themselves in a more appropriate position.

"Miss Baxter, her Ladyship's bell has been ringing this last _five _minutes. Once you have answered and completed whatever task she has for you, I will see you in my office."

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," she replied just above a whisper, standing up and reluctantly letting go of Joseph's hand.

"And Mr. Molesley...don't you have some students to see to? If not, I'm sure Mr. Barrow could find some tasks for you."

"Ah...yes. I'll be off for tutoring now."

"Mrs. Hughes didn't exactly say "See that you do," but it was quite clear from her expression that the less she saw of Joseph the rest of the afternoon, the better off for him it would be.

Phyllis was hurriedly gathering up an armload of shoes and resolutely not looking at Mrs. Hughes, so she had no idea that the Housekeeper had turned briskly on her heel and left. When Joseph leaned in to help her, it startled her.

"How did it all come out so quickly," she gasped. Joseph reached out and took her elbow to steady her.

"Things took a turn," he agreed, "but maybe its for the best?"

"It will be," she assured him, and possibly herself as well. "But I was hoping to go about things a bit differently."

Joseph shrugged and glanced at the top of her head.

"Are you sure there's eighteen of them?" he asked, the twinkle returning to his eyes.

"Of course I'm sure, Joseph," she said with a touch of exasperation.

"Only, I always seem to miss one," he murmured, placing his hand on her shoulder and sliding his thumb up the back of her neck.

Phyllis stared at him for a moment, then shook herself and pulled her armful of her Ladyship's things closer to her. Joseph reluctantly dropped his hand and motioned for her to proceed him out of the boot room.

"Why _are_ you always counting my hairpins, Joseph?" she muttered.

When he didn't respond, she turned in the hallway to see him watching her with a smile. She raised her eyebrows as he let his mind wander, as he always did, to the thought of gently grasping each hairpin and removing it smoothly, without a single tangle, kissing her as each carefully bound piece of her hair fell to drape onto her shoulders and around her face.

"I'll tell you very soon, Phyllis," he promised.


End file.
